


eclipse

by emilyseyebrow



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Relationship Study, Symbolism, Undefined Conflict, i cant bring myself to hurt them, they have a fight and then work it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyseyebrow/pseuds/emilyseyebrow
Summary: George thinks that Dream is the sun.He's boisterous and cheerful and outgoing and bright. He draws every eye when he enters the room - metaphorically, of course. He's confident and maybe even a little bit cocky.If Dream is the sun, well, then George supposes he is the moon.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> ive had this in my drafts for too long and decided to just get it out there  
> sorry if the plot sucks i just needed an outlet for symbolism that came to me at like one am  
> as always thank you [smolricecookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolricecookie/pseuds/smolricecookie) for beta'ing

George thinks that Dream is the sun.

He's boisterous and cheerful and outgoing and bright. He draws every eye when he enters the room - metaphorically, of course. He's confident and maybe even a little bit cocky. Hell, even his star sign lines up.

Dream is the sun, in more ways than that. 

Like the sun is to the universe, Dream is an omnipresent figure in George's life. Whether he's happy or sad or frustrated, Dream is always there beside him. He's been there for the years, through thick and thin; some of the best moments of George's life were with Dream. 

So if Dream is the sun, well, then George supposes he is the moon.

It makes sense, he reasons. He's everything that Dream is not - generally introverted, quiet, and calm. They're total opposites; they shouldn't work, but they somehow do, and George thinks that's beautiful. 

Perhaps their polarity is what's so enticing to him.

Like the sun and the moon, they reside far apart; if 93 million miles is even comparable to the distance across the Atlantic Ocean. They may not be separated by the infinite bounds of space, but it feels that way sometimes. 

When they sit on a call, alone together, talking hours into the night. When they long for nothing more than to be able to be together in person. When they dream of what that would be like, years and years of internet friendship culminating up to the moment where they could _finally_ be in each other's arms. The distance between them hits the hardest when they yearn most.

But, of course, the sun and moon were never meant to be. 

-

Dream is the sun, George realizes, but only after he's already gone.

One petty argument led to another until they were shouting over each other on a call, blinking away tears and wondering, spitefully, what was the point?

Maybe long distance just wasn't working. 

Maybe it was just stress or lack of sleep getting to them both.

Maybe, maybe, _maybe_ is what runs through George's brain as he desperately tries to explain to himself why they were fighting. He feels confined, trapped in his own head, because the one person he trusted the most has now turned on him.

Despondently, he settles on the idea that maybe he and Dream weren't so star-crossed, after all. 

Like the sun and the moon, George had thought they were beautiful. 

Now, with raw anger and frustration and _emotion_ spilling out of their mouths and across the phone line, he can't remember why.

He leaves the call with the taste of fire on his tongue, tears still burning in his eyes, and a heart heavier than it had ever been.

-

The world is a lot gloomier without the sun around.

That's a fact that should have been obvious, but George doesn't truly realize the gravity of it until Dream is gone. 

Appropriately, the day after their fight, it rains in England. Perhaps "appropriate" isn't the right way to describe it; it feels as though the universe is mocking him, and he can't help but muse morosely if this is to be the rest of his life: dark, cloudy days spent pacing his house and waiting for a message that never arrives.

He ignores texts from everyone, even the ones from concerned friends that multiply as the days pass. 

Eventually, George comes to the conclusion that the sun and the moon will never work, because they're too different. Their polarity isn't poetic or romantic, but blinding; they have nothing in common, nothing to keep them together besides their role in the solar system. 

Dream is loud and obnoxious. George, generally, isn't. 

Dream is a leader. George is a follower. 

He lists the differences in his head. With each point made, he can't help but feel like he's hurting himself more than he's accomplishing anything; each thought is like a needle stabbing him, as much as he tries to convince himself that he's in the right, that they weren't meant to be. His head is filled with thoughts of Dream, Dream, _Dream_ , until finally he can't take it any longer. 

He can't bring himself to hate his friend; he doesn't think he ever truly will. Even when their relationship is muddy and clouded, George's love still finds a way to shine through. 

The next morning, he wakes up to the sunlight streaming through the clouds into his window and thinks that maybe, it will be alright.

-

Without Dream, it feels like the very universe is off balance. 

His phone's lock screen is smothered in notifications, but none from one person he wants them to be from. 

He can't join any calls, or friends will ask where he's been. 

He can't stream for a multitude of reasons; his fans were very perceptive, he'd noticed. 

The longer he waits in solitude, the deeper the hole he dug himself grows. He immerses himself in work, in coding and editing, as a distraction. 

Desperately, he wants to call Dream, to hear his voice, to laugh with him, anything to reassure himself that he was okay, that _they_ were okay. 

He realizes belatedly that he's acting as the moon once again. 

The sun rules the daytime, thriving off the energy of the Earth and the people there. As dusk falls, the sun hides, just out of the moon's reach. They're locked in a timeless game of cat and mouse, the moon doomed to chasing the light for eternity.

And what does the moon get for all her toils, besides the ruling of night? Her futile efforts go unnoticed, for the sun cares for nothing except himself. 

George puts his phone down and walks away. Dream's contact information stares up at him, stoic and judging, until the screen eventually goes dark.

\- 

George can't help but think about the nature of their friendship. There's a great chance they could have never even met at all. They could have just been two people, orbiting the same Earth yet never interacting. 

But, they did. 

George wouldn't call himself superstitious, but if that isn't fate, then what is?

-

The next day, Sapnap requests for George on his stream, and he agrees. 

They chat for a few minutes on stream until a noise sounds notifying them that someone has joined the call. 

Sapnap, the bastard.

At the very least, Dream acts just as surprised as George was. They don't interact too much, instead choosing to let Sapnap play the middle man. George hates it. He hates every second of it. Every moment that he could be cracking jokes and laughing with his best friend is spent as a bystander, a single star among thousands overlooking the cosmos. 

Of course, Sapnap notices, and immediately scolds them as soon as the stream ends. He tells them, quite eloquently, to "work their shit out" before leaving them alone. 

It's silent for a moment before Dream ventures a tentative "hi" and George can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He apologizes briefly and Dream reciprocates. 

_"So... are we good now?"_

_"We're good."_

-

They aren't.

At least, not for a while. 

Things are stilted and awkward for the most part; each conversation is like walking on eggshells, both of them afraid to disturb the strange new peace that has settled over them like a thin blanket on a summer night. 

George finally thinks, _fuck it_ , and sends a good-morning text. 

That conversation turns into a private call for the first time in a week. 

It's awkward at first, but after they pass the strained formalities they're chatting just like new. 

Before the call ends, they apologize once again. _Sorry for yelling at you. Sorry for egging you on. Sorry for what I said._

_Sorry,_ George thinks regretfully, _it turned out like this at all._

As the noise from his headset fades, so does a weight from his shoulders. 

He stands up, stretches, and smiles. It was gonna be okay.

-

Gradually, they build their friendship back up from the ground. 

They work together to pick up the pieces and stick them back together, and while it's a little haphazard, they know the cracks will heal with time. 

They're proven right the more time they spend in voice calls, chatting about anything and everything. They're proven right the longer they spend texting each other about the smallest things in their life. 

They're proven right when George steps off the plane and onto Florida ground. 

When they lock eyes through the crowds of people and the rest of the world fades away.

When Dream takes off across the bustling airport floor and encompasses George in his arms with a gentle _oof_ from the older man and they can't help but feel like this is what they've been waiting for their whole lives. 

-

The sun and the moon rely on one another. The delicate balance between the celestial bodies establishes the order of the universe.

Dream and George sometimes feel like they're at the center of the universe, too. 

When the sun and the moon finally collide, it's in a busy Florida airport in the middle of summer. The plane lands at dusk, when it's neither day nor night, and the world is at balance.

With his head tucked into Dream's chest, enveloped tightly in his arms, George laughs. 

"Hey, George," Dream says fondly with a smile, and George's heart soars. 

If Dream is the sun and George is the moon, then this must be an eclipse. This moment, soft and sentimental, is totality, and not even the cosmos can keep them apart.

**Author's Note:**

> i cant write angst and i needed a conflict so sorry if this sucks lol  
> pspspspspsp gimme comments plz :)  
> also follow me on twitter if you want [@emilyseyebrow](https://twitter.com/emilyseyebrow) i rant about mcyt


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